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A JUST RIGHT BOOK 






































Homespun Stories 





The Queen sent out a Herald 
See story (The Enchanted Princess) 


“The plainest face has beauty , 
If the owner’s kind and true; 
And that’s the kind of beauty 
My boy and girl for you.” 












Wouldn’t they let you be King any longer?** 
From story (The Little Shiner) 













































































HOMESPUN STORIES 

Copyright, 1924, by Albert Whitman & Co. 
Chicago, U. S. A. 


CLARA J. DENTON’S 
OTHER BOOKS 

Cozy Corner Stories 
Real Bird Tales 
Busy Little Birds 
Real Out-of-Door Stories 
Open Air Stories 



4 

Publishers 

ALBERT WHITMAN & CO. 
Chicago 
U. S. A. 


Unless the Princess was kept out of the 
kitchen, he should leave “without warning”. 
From story (The Accidental Candy) 



A JUST RIGHT BOOK 
PUBLISHED IN THE U. S. A. 


SEP -6 1924 '»/' t 

©C1A801739 












Page 


THE WANDERING DRYAD.. 7 

THE ENCHANTED PRINCESS. 18 

THE WUZZLE . 33 

THE MARBLE SPOUT.50 

THE GOLDEN LOCKS. 66 

THE SILENCER . 76 

THE GNOME KING . 93 

THE ACCIDENTAL CANDY.101 

ALONE IN THE FOREST. .112 

LITTLE SHINER.119 


5 













* 



She was once a dryad belonging to a 

beautiful tree 







HOMESPUN STORIES 



Every tree has within it a guardian spirit called a dryad 


THE WANDERING DRYAD 

TT IS a strange story, but it was told to me by 
the wood elves, and therefore I am not 
responsible for its truth. 

Did I ever see the wood elves? No! I have 

not seen them, but I hear them every time I 
7 





8 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


go to the forest, and very strange indeed are the 
stories which they tell to me. Their voices are 
so low that unless you listen very closely you 
cannot even hear them, much less understand 
their talk. 

So, the folks that are careless talkers who 
love nothing so well as the sound of their own 
voices, whether they really mean anything or 
not, have but a small chance of hearing any of 
the wonderful things which the wood elves have 
to tell. 

There is the old Grecian story that every 
tree has within it a guardian spirit called a 
dryad. The lives of these dryads are bound up 
in the lives of their trees, and if anything hap¬ 
pens to the tree whereby its life ends, its dryad 
also dies—they are inseparable. But, once upon 




THE WANDERING DRYAD 


9 


a time, so the wood elves whispered to me, a 
very strange thing had happened in the forest; 
a dryad had wandered off and left her tree. Such 
a thing had never been known before, and the 
whole forest was distressed about it. 

Not only were all the dryads and the hama¬ 
dryads, the naiads and the nymphs wailing over 
the lost dryad, but the wood elves, the fairies 
and the gnomes were grieving and wondering 
over the strange event. 

The king of the forest was more troubled 
than anyone, because he said, “It has always 
been supposed that no dryad could escape from 
her tree, but now that one has gone away, it 
will not be long, I fear, before every dryad 
and hamadryad will be running off to see the 
world. The discontent may even spread to the 




10 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


naiads and the nereids, the elves and the 
gnomes, and presently I shall be a king without 
any kingdom.” 

In the midst of his sad musings one of the 
wood elves came running to him with the news 
that the tree which had been deserted by its 
dryad was dying. This story threw the poor 
king into a panic. Were the trees then to de¬ 
pend on the dryads for their lives? Everything 
seemed turning topsy turvy, and if all the 
dryads should take it into their heads to run 
away, and all the trees should die in conse¬ 
quence, what would become of the living things 
in the forest? More than that, what kind of a 
place would this old earth be without any trees 
to beautify and protect it? 

As this dreadful thought took possession 
of the poor king’s mind he jumped from his 




THE WANDERING DRYAD 


11 


throne and began running about his palace so 
wildly that his crown fell off and rolled out of 
sight under an acorn cup, where it was lost for 
as much as five minutes, before it was even 
missed by its owner. There was but one 
thought in the mind of the king; “Something 
must be done to save that dying tree, just for 
the sake of example if for nothing more.” 

When he had finally sent off two wood 
elves with a message to Mother Nature to come 
quickly and revive the dying tree, he missed 
his crown. 

Then there was trouble, and by the time the 
pretty bauble was found and once more safely 
placed upon his head, the sceptre in his hand 
and himself back upon his throne in all his 
royal state, the wood elves came running in 
with a message from Mother Nature, saying 




12 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


that she could do nothing with the tree, that 
“it must die unless the dryad could be restored 
to its old home therein.” 

This message threw the king into a terrible 
rage. He was not one to believe that “nothing 
could be done.” 

He always expected his folks to discover 
what was wrong before they gave up the remedy, 
unreasonable as it might be; in this he was not 
unlike some people that we know. So he sent 
the swift little wood.elves with this message to 
Mother Nature: “This tree must be revived. 
Pour upon it your most refreshing showers, turn 
upon it the full glory of your finest sunshine, 
give it your coolest and softest breezes. There 
is no help to be got from the dryad, she neither 
can nor may come back; in the first place she is 
lost; no one knows where she is, besides, since 




THE WANDERING DRYAD 


13 


she has broken the ancient law of the forest, she 
should not be allowed to come back, even 
though she wished to do so. She must pay the 
penalty of her disobedience by wandering 
henceforth over the wide world without a 
home.” 

The wood elves had no sooner departed 
than a troop of Brownies came running to the 
king with this strange tale. 

“May it please your majesty,” began the 
Spokesman, “as we were wandering over the 
world looking for some suffering creature 
whom we might help, we found a little one sit¬ 
ting upon a stone and weeping her life away. 
We soon learned her story, she was once a 
dryad belonging to a beautiful tree in a far-off 
forest, but she broke away from her tree and 
started out to see the world, thinking that she 




14 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


could return when she wished, but she could 
not find the way back, and now she is lonely 
and sorrowful for her beautiful home. As we 
could not tell whence she came we thought it 
wise to come to your majesty with her story.” 

The king’s brow darkened as he told the 
Brownies his decision about the dryad. 

“But, your majesty,” exclaimed the 
Brownie, “if you could have heard her sobbing 
and wailing for her lost home, you must have 
relented. Her cries sounded around the whole 
earth until the people said, ‘Hark, how the 
wind is blowing!’ Oh, your majesty, it was 
indeed very sad.” 

The king sat in silence; his was a tender 
heart, but there was the broken law! Suddenly 
an idea came over him so forcibly that he 
sprang to his feet and nearly upset his throne. 




THE WANDERING DRYAD 


IS 


“My throne is shaking,” he said with a 
laugh, as he reached out his sceptre and 
straightened it again, “but no matter, it is not 
like a human throne, because if this one gives 
out, Mother Nature will grow another one for 
me in a single night.” 

When he had settled himself firmly on 
his seat again he took from his bosom a tiny 
whistle and blew upon it a long silvery note. 
In a twinkling the king was surrounded by all 
the wood-people — fairies, elves, gnomes, 
brownies, pixies and sprites of all kinds, of 
which you and I do not even know the names— 
all standing at attention and waiting to know 
the king’s commands. 

He told them in exact words the story of 
the dryad and the broken law, of her sorrow 
and repentance, of her wish to return to the 




16 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


tree and of its sad, dying state. In closing he 
said: 

“You know how closely we wood people 
obey laws and how severely we punish those 
who break them, so, while I am sorry for the 
dryad, I could think of but one way in which 
I could let her escape further punishment, 
and this is what you are to do to help the poor 
dryad; you are to look for a child, who for a 
month, a whole month, mind you, obeys every 
command given to it, when you have found it, 
bring me the child’s name. When this is done, 
but not before, I will send the Brownies to 
escort the dryad back to her tree.” 

Then the meeting broke up; the sprites 
scattered, the king left his throne, took off his 
crown, for after all that serious thinking his 
head ached, and stretching himself on a bed of 




THE WANDERING DRYAD 17 



"The king is still sleeping’ 


moss, he said to his attendants, “I must have a 
long nap, let no one disturb me until the mes¬ 
sengers return with the name of that child, and 
in another moment he was sound asleep. 

“But,” said the wood elves in concluding 
this story, “we are sorry to tell you that the king 
is still sleeping.” 

However, that was a long while ago, and 
I feel sure that the king must have been wak¬ 
ened by this time. What do you think about it? 







THE ENCHANTED PRINCESS 


'T'HERE was once upon a time a queen 
named Agnes who was very unhappy 
because her son was about to marry a beautiful 
but ill-tempered princess. 

“He cannot be happy with her, I know he 
cannot,” she would moan to herself in the still 
hours of the night as she lay awake, brooding 
over the future. 

But one night, after several hours of 
anxious tossing she fell asleep and a dream so 
beautiful came to her that when she awoke in 
the morning a happy smile was on her lips. 
She lay quietly thinking for a few minutes 

and then she said to herself softly; “I’ll try it.” 

18 


THE ENCHANTED PRINCESS 


19 


She crept out of bed and seated herself on 
the floor. 

This was not an easy task, for the swiftly 
flying years had made her quite stout and not 
so limber in her joints, but she didn’t mean to 
be overcome by such trifles. 

As soon as she was comfortably seated she 
closed her eyes and said aloud, but very softly; 

“Fairy, Fairy Lovelight, with the wand of 
gold, 

Come and do my bidding ere the day 
grows old.” 

Then she waited, and in a few moments 
she heard a soft rustling behind her. 

She turned her head and saw in a large 
chair near by a dimpled, chubby little woman 
wrapped in a long gray cloak and looking at 
her with kindly eyes. 




20 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


“So you obeyed my dream children.” Said 
the little woman. 

“Yes,” answered the queen, “of course I 
did, there was nothing else to do.” 

“Umph!” said the little woman crossly; 
and then she began to grow smaller and smaller, 
until the queen, fearing she would disappear 
entirely, threw her arms out toward her and 
begged; 

“Oh, don’t go yet.” 

“I am not going,” said the fairy, “I am 
only growing smaller because I am offended.” 

“Oh,” said the queen ready to cry, “I 
understand and indeed, I don’t wonder that you 
are offended. It was certainly neither kind nor 
polite to say what I did, but I am sure you will 
forgive me when you know how desperate my 
situation is.” 




THE ENCHANTED PRINCESS 


21 


“I know all about it,” said the little woman,’ 
who, being pleased by the queen’s apology, 
was now rapidly regaining her natural size. 

“If I hadn’t known all about it I shouldn’t 
have taken the trouble to send my dream-sprites 
to you. I am the fairy Lovelight for whom you 
were calling. I have always looked after the 
Oldern family, and now that this trouble for 
your son, Theobald, was so near at hand, it 
seemed best for me to interfere. 

“Before we go any further, suppose you 
get up and sit in a chair. I am sure you will 
be more comfortable, and as I only ordered you 
to sit on the floor to test your obedience, it is 
quite useless for you to remain there any 
longer.” 

Although it had been hard for the queen to 




22 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


sit down on the floor, it was much harder for 
her to rise from it. She made two or three vain 
efforts, and finally, as a last resort, caught at 
the large chair in which the fairy sat, and by 
its help, after much tugging and groaning 
managed to stand upright. 

She had been so absorbed in, her struggles 
that she had not noticed her visitor, but now, 
as she turned her eyes that way, she saw, to her 
great surprise, that the small figure had grown 
so large that it nearly reached to the ceiling. 

At this unexpected transformation the 
queen stood gazing with wondering eyes at the 
still rapidly growing form. 

Presently her wits returned to her and she 
turned to flee from the room. 

Then the fairy called out, in her soft, sil¬ 


very voice, 




THE ENCHANTED PRINCESS 


23 


“Come back, come back! you have noth¬ 
ing to fear.” 

Slowly the queen returned, keeping her 
eyes closely on the fairy, however, who now 
began to dwindle away very fast. 

‘You are weak-hearted, indeed,” she said, 
“to run from a little thing like that, I was only 
laughing.” 

“Laughing!” exclaimed the queen, in 
great amazement. 

“Yes, you have seen that when I am 
offended I grow smaller; by the same rule I 
grow larger when I am pleased or amused. 
That is my way of both smiling and laughing.” 

“Oh,” said the queen, “then I suppose one 
can tell, by the rate at which you expand, the 
amount of pleasure you feel?” 




24 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


“Exactly,” said the fairy, “you really catch 
the idea very clearly.” 

“Then you must have been greatly pleased 
just now, though I cannot imagine what you 
found to laugh at.” 

“If you could have seen yourself getting 
up from the floor,” said the fairy, beginning to 
expand again. 

t “Oh well, never mind, never mind,”'said 
the queen, much annoyed, and secretly thinking 
the fairy a very rude person; “we will let that 
pass. I dare say I was a funny sight, but I’m 
sure you did not come here simply to see me 
show my awkwardness. I am certain you can 
and will help my poor child, Theobald.” 

“I will try,” said the fairy, who had, by this 
time, returned to her natural size, “but it is not 




THE ENCHANTED PRINCESS 


25 


an easy thing to do. The Princess Catherine, 
whom your son wishes to marry, is enchanted 
by a wicked fairy. I don’t know what would 
become of the poor mortals if it were not for 
the law of fairyland that for every evil enchant¬ 
ment placed upon them there exists a counter 
one that makes it powerless if the person hap¬ 
pens to discover it. But if it should be revealed 
to him or her by anyone, it loses its power. Do 
you understand?” 

“Oh yes,” said the queen, “you mean that 
if you should go to the princess and tell her 
what to do, she could not be helped by obeying 
you.” 

“Yes,” said the fairy, “that is it; we must 
manage matters in some way so that the prin¬ 
cess will not only want to do the thing that will 




26 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


help her, but will carry it out fully, without any 
advice or command from anyone; and, of 
course, it remains with you to arouse this 
desire.” 

“Oh, I will do anything, anything,” 
promised the queen quickly. 

“There is another difficulty,” continued 
the fairy, “if the enchantment is not broken 
before the close of her twentieth birthday, there 
is no power that can effect it until her thirtieth 
birthday.” 

“Oh,” sobbed the queen, “and her birthday 
is so near!” 

“Fortunately,” continued the fairy hope¬ 
fully, “the charm requires but one day in which 
to work. Now listen, for my time is almost up, 
and I cannot repeat the directions. This is the 




THE ENCHANTED PRINCESS 


27 


charm that will save the princess; From the 
time that she is dressed in the morning, until 
she is undressed at night, she must not spend 
one idle moment. 

It is of no consequence what her work may 
be, but she must keep at it continually, pausing 
only for her meals. If she can do this for one 
whole day between now and the close of her 
twentieth birthday, her evil temper will be 
gone, and she will be the most charming prin¬ 
cess in the round world. Her character will be 
as beautiful as her face.” 

“It sounds very simple,” said the queen 
with a sob, “but I fear it can never be done. 
You know, of course, that the princess is as idle 
as though she were dead. She never did a 
single useful thing in her life.” 




28 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


“I know it, and if she spent some of her 
energy in work, she wouldn’t have so much to 
waste in temper. But now my time is up, and 
you must manage as best you can.” 

There was a soft, whizzing sound, a tiny 
speck of light that went out in a second, and the 
queen was once more alone. 

Then she set her wits to work. She thought 
and thought, planned and studied, and by and 
by she had an inspiration. 

The next day the court ladies were all sum¬ 
moned to the queen’s presence and she made 
them this little speech; 

“I have invented a new kind of quilt which 
will be useful to poor people, and I want to 
begin one right away, so that they may become 
the fashion before the winter sets in, but I must 




THE ENCHANTED PRINCESS 


29 


have your help. Therefore, I ask you to bring 
me, tomorrow, as great a variety as possible of 
small pieces of silk and satin. The one who 
brings the largest and best collection shall have 
a ball given in her honor as soon as the quilt is 
finished.” 

The queen’s next move was to invite the 
princess to be present on the following day to 
help her decide on the claims of the various col¬ 
lections. 

By this means the princess was present 
when the queen commenced what she called a 
“crazy quilt,” which had never been heard of 
before in that land. 

As the good queen had hoped, the princess 
Catherine became infatuated with the beautiful 
“crazy quilt” and declared her intention to 


make one “some day.” 




30 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


Then the wise queen told her that if she 
would work with her she might have the beau¬ 
tiful and novel quilt for her own when it was 
finished. 

It took the princess nearly a whole day to 
make up her mind, but as every lady at court 
had begun one of the new-fashioned quilts, she 
finally decided to start one. She arose one morn¬ 
ing so full of thoughts about the silk “crazy 
quilt” that she could hardly wait to begin it. 

The good queen kept close beside her all 
day, bringing out new shades and suggesting 
new combinations, fearing every moment that 
the natural indolence of the princess would 
assert itself and thus destroy all her hopes. 

But the princess worked on and on, 
scarcely stopping to eat until the clock struck 





THE ENCHANTED PRINCESS 


f 




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vf 

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fill 

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But the princess worked on and on — 























































32 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


the midnight hour. Then the good queen went 
to bed with a quiet mind. 

When the quilt was finished the queen sent 
a herald to proclaim through the land that there 
should be a week of feasting and rejoicing. 

Great merrymaking followed. Everybody 
was given a holiday; even the poorest wood-cut¬ 
ter in the land took part in the general joy. 

Many people wondered why there should 
be so great a celebration over the introduction 
of a new-fashioned quilt, even though it were 
useful to people who wanted to use up bits and 
scraps of silk. 

But queen Agnes kept her own counsel, 
and no one knew all that the quilt meant to her; 
for the enchantment was broken, and Catherine 
ever afterward was both sweet-tempered and in¬ 
dustrious. 





The Wuzzle 


“THE WUZZLE.” 

“/^AN you straighten out this wuzzle for 
me, Millie,” asked grandmother. 

“I don’t know what that is,” said Millie. 
Her grandmother had lately come to live 
at Millie’s home, and this was a new word to 
the little girl. 

“Well, that’s a wuzzle,” said grandmother 
laughing, as she laid in Millie’s hand a soft 


33 


34 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


little bunch of tangled sewing silk and thread. 

“Oh yes, I like to do that,” said Millie, and 
taking some ivory silk-winders, she went out to 
her hammock. 

As she picked away at the ends of the silk, 
she thought, 

“How funny grandmother is, I wonder 
why she didn’t call this a snarl, or a tangle.” 
Then she kept saying the funny word over and 
over to herself, and finally she began to sing 
softly to words of her own choosing, which 
was one of her favorite pastimes; 

“I wonder what a wuzzle is, 

A wuzzle, wuzzle, wuzzle, 

Just a puzzle, puzzle, puzzle, 

That is what a wuzzle is.” 

She picked away patiently at the tangle, 




THE WUZZLE 


35 


pulling out now and then a long thread which 
she wound up neatly on an ivory silk winder. 
It was very quiet work, the hammock swayed 
gently. A cicada in a tree near by, chirped 
monotonously, and Millie pretty soon found 
herself growing sleepy. But she drew herself 
up, of course she wasn’t going to sleep in broad 
daylight; and she tugged away, still harder, at 
the tight central knot of the wuzzle. 

But suddenly her hands were empty and 
she looked around anxiously for the wuzzle. 

In a moment she saw something on the 
edge of the hammock directly in front of her 
that was like, yet very unlike, the wuzzle. 

It had arms and legs that were thin and 
thread-like. Its body was clad in a variegated 
jacket exactly like the many colored threads in 




36 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


the tangle. The whole was surmounted by a 
little round head covered with long hair that 
stood out in a very disorderly manner, and al¬ 
most hid a pair of bright black eyes that looked 
mischievously at Millie. 

“O my,” said the little girl in a frightened 
whisper. 

“But I’m not yours,” said a fine soft voice. 

“Whose are you then—and who are you 
too?” asked the astonished Millie. 

“Why, don’t you remember, I’m the Wuz- 
zle, I made a pretty good jump didn’t I?” and 
the funny little thing threw its arms and legs 
about in great delight. 

“But you had no right to jump away from 
me like that, and I’m sure grandmother 
wouldn’t like it,” said Millie severely. 





37 




38 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


“Your grandmother, O, your grand¬ 
mother,” said the Wuzzle, laughing so hard that 
it nearly lost its balance, “much I care for her.” 

“But you belong to her,” said Millie in¬ 
dignantly. 

“Well, I’m sorry to contradict you, my 

dear, but you’re entirely wrong on that point.” 

/ 

“Then to whom do you belong?” asked 
Millie in much surprise. 

“To a princess,” said the Wuzzle. 

“Really?” exclaimed the delighted Millie, 
“where is she?” 

“That’s just what I’d like to know,” and 
Millie was sure there were tears in the bright, 
black eyes. 

“Do tell me about the princess,” begged 
Millie. 




THE WtTZZLE 


39 


“I’ll be glad to,” said the Wuzzle, “for I 
don’t often have a chance to talk about those 
happy times.” 

“But how do you know she was a prin¬ 
cess?” 

“The darning-needle told me.” 

“O, how lovely!” exclaimed Millie, “and 
now tell me exactly how she looked.” 

“She had long, golden hair and blue eyes, 
with the sweetest face that was always smiling. 
She was very good indeed to us, she let us do 
just as we pleased and also gave us a beautiful 
house to live in.” 

“Us?” interrupted Millie, “were there 
others there besides yourself?” 

“Yes indeed,” replied, the Wuzzle with a 
long sigh, “a great many, and a very select 




40 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


company we were too, Oh! but those were de¬ 
lightful times,” and the Wuzzle paused, lost in 
its thoughts of the past. 

‘‘But tell me the names of your friends,” 
said Millie, a little impatiently. 

“Ah, yes,” said the Wuzzle, “pardon me, I 
forgot myself for the moment. Well, there was 
Miss Thimble, a high-bred lady, Miss Emery, 
Madame Pincushion, Mr. and Mrs. Scissors 
and a very numerous family called the Silks, 
of whom there were so many that I cannot re¬ 
member all their names. The Threads and 
Yarns were also a large family, their manners 
were not quite so good as the Silks, but they 
were very worthy people. 

“Then there was Mr. Beeswax, he was a 
great favorite among us, for he kept everything 
so smooth. I don’t believe we could have lived 





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JL 




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**A very select company we were” 







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41 











42 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


in the same house with Miss Emery if it had 
not been for his gentle manners. Another gen¬ 
tleman who was very necessary in our com¬ 
munity, although we all feared him a little, was 
Mr. Tape-line. He kept us all straight, and 
there is no telling what strange things we might 
have done had it not been for him. 

“Then there was Mr. Stiletto, he was an 
extremely handsome fellow and quite a favorite, 
although he had a way of, now and then, saying 
things that were rather sharp. He was an ad¬ 
mirer of the Thread family and they were quite 
often visiting together. Miss Glovemender, 
tried very hard to attract his attention, but he 
had no time for her. Dear me! what very fine 
times we did have, and no one knows how I 
long to see my companions again. We were 
never called upon to work, and as our house 




THE WUZZLE 


43 


stood in a prominent place, and as it was nearly 
always left open, that is with the roof turned 
back, we had a fine chance to see and hear 
many things in the great world. 

“Mrs. Scissors, who was there, was a very 
sharp old lady, declares that the reason the door 
to our house was always lifted up was because 
there was a mirror in it. Do you happen to 
know what a mirror is?” 

“Well, I should think so,” said Millie, a 
little indignantly. 

“Then you will understand what Mrs. Scis¬ 
sors meant, she was very hard to deceive. 
Sometimes one of the members of the Yarn 
family would amuse us with a story, but if she 
told the least thing that was not strictly true, 
my! how quickly Mrs. Scissors would know it, 
and she’d cut it all to pieces. 




44 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


“I must admit that she was right about the 
mirror, for our mistress, the princess, never 
came that way without stopping to look in it, 
but one could hardly blame her, for she cer¬ 
tainly made a very beautiful picture,” and 
closing its tale, with a long sigh, the Wuzzle 
remained silent for several minutes, evidently 
dreaming of the charming princess. 

“But,” said Millie, when she thought she 
had borne the silence long enough, “if you were 
so happy there, why did you come away?” 

“I am certain I don’t know,” said the Wuz¬ 
zle with another sigh, but one day when we were 
all having a merry time watching Miss Darn¬ 
ing-needle and Mr. Bodkin dance the polka— 
the canary bird furnished the music—we were 
suddenly thrown out of our beautiful house, 
and we all struck the table in a heap together. 




THE WUZZLE 


45 


Mrs. Scissors, who happened to land on the top 
of the pile, said it was the princess herself who 
carried our house off, and that she probably 
wanted it to put chocolates in, but I never could 
believe that story. I think it was just some of 
Mrs. Scissors’ merry gossip. But by and by my 
friends began to be picked up and carried 
away. One by one I saw my beloved compan¬ 
ions depart until I was left entirely alone. It 
was then that I learned to love the princess so 
dearly, for having nothing else to do I passed 
my time in watching her whenever she was in 
the room. 

“But one unlucky day for me, when she 
was not near, someone picked me up and car¬ 
ried me.off, and here I am.” 

“Yes,” said Millie sadly, “and that isn’t the 


worst of it either.” 




46 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


“Well, I don’t see how anything that is 
worse can happen to me, now that I have got 
away from you. Of course if I had stayed with 
you much longer there wouldn’t have been any¬ 
thing left of me. My! it makes me shiver when 
I remember how near you came to pulling me 
to pieces.” 

“But,” said Millie very gently, “I shall 
have to do it after all, for grandmother told me 
to, and I must obey her, though you can’t 
imagine how I do dread to do it.” 

“O,” said the Wuzzle, winking very hard 
at Millie, “I think you’ll have to catch me first.” 

“That is easy enough,” said Millie, mak¬ 
ing a swift dash at the Wuzzle, but instead of 
closing her hand upon it, she rolled out of the 
hammock and came down upon the grass with 
a thump. 




THE WUZZLE 


47 


She jumped up quickly and looked around 
for the Wuzzle, but it was not to be seen. She 
went into the house with a very long face. 

“Grandmother,” she said, “do you think it 
can find its way back to the princess?” 

Grandmother took off her spectacles and 
looked at Millie. 

“So you have been dreaming about a prin¬ 
cess, I saw you were having a nice nap. But 
where is my silk?” 

“It’s gone, grandma, I looked all around 
in the hammock and everywhere, but I couldn’t 
find it,” and she sobbed a little. 

“O, never mind, my pet,” said grandmoth¬ 
er consolingly, “you needn’t care, it wasn’t of 
much consequence anyway.” 

“But—but it was a Wuzzle,” said Millie 
betvj|en her sobs. 




48 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


Grandmother laughed a little, but added 
quickly; 

“Well, the world is full of Wuzzles, dear, 
you will probably see many more before you 
die, though you may not give them exactly that 
name.” 

“But where did you get this one, grand¬ 
mother?” 

“What a queer child you are, I didn’t get 
it, it made itself from the loose ends of my 
spools.” 

Millie was silent a moment then she said; 

“Grandmother has my cousin Rose, where 
you’ve been living, long golden curls and blue 
eyes?” 

“Why, of course she has, you cannot have 
forgotten how she looks? She’s a very pretty 




THE WUZZLE 


49 


girl, but a very useless one also, as I have told 
you before. I am glad you do not live near her.” 

“I do wish I could find that Wuzzle,” 
said Millie mournfully, as she turned to go out 
of doors. 

This wish, however, was never granted, but 
if Millie had understood bird language, she 
would have found out what had become of the 
Wuzzle. 





THE MARBLE SPOUT. 


ONG, long, ago, in a far-away land called 



Mabiseau, a good man named Kynde- 
heart was made king. When he was a very 
little boy he said to himself that if he ever be¬ 
came king he would help the beggars that al¬ 
ways hung about the palace gates. 

So, the day after he was crowned, and 
while the people were still making merry over 
the great event, a company of workmen came 
to the palace wall, and began making a hole 
near the main gate. 

To all the questions asked by the curious 
beggars and passers-by they only answered, 
“The king has ordered it.” 


50 


THE MARBLE SPOUT 51 



Soon the “//” appeared beside it 

When night came and the men went home, 
there was a large smooth hole in the palace 
wall, and the people wondered more and more. 

The next morning another set of work¬ 
men appeared. They brought with them a large 
marble spout, which they fastened into the hole 
with strong white cement. 

Then these men also went away, and soon 
after another man came alone. He carried a 








52 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


sharp instrument and a mallet, and, after much 
measuring around the spout, he began to cut 
into the wall just above it. Then, after a while, 
the wondering people saw that he had cut the 
letter “W” in the wall; soon the letter “h” ap¬ 
peared beside it, and by and by the word 
“When” stood plainly carved on the wall. 
Then the man went home and left the people 
more curious than ever as they repeated that one 
word, “When,” to one another. 

Then next day the same things happened. 
The man worked faithfully, the crowd watched 
patiently, letter by letter, and word by word. 
By and by these were the words that stared from 
the wall; 

“When the palace clock strikes twelve.” 

Then the people looked at each other and 
their eyes said, “What will happen then?” 




THE MARBLE SPOUT 


53 


“Then we shall all be killed,” whispered 
someone hoarsely, “it is the new king.” 

The whisper ran through the crowd, and 
the people were so frightened they forgot to 
watch the next letter—an “m”—that was form¬ 
ing under the man’s sharp tool. 

“Look at the clock,” called someone in a 
loud voice; for this palace clock, like many 
others in large towns, struck the noon hour 
only. 

Every pair of eyes turned to the great dial, 
and in another instant every pair of heels was 
flying away from the palace wall, for the hands 
of the clock pointed to half-past eleven, and if 
they were to be killed at twelve, they had but 
half an hour left to save their necks. 

The man, glad to be alone, worked on 
steadily, and when, near the close of the day, 




54 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


he took off his dust-covered apron, these were 
the words that ran around the marble spout; 
“When the palace clock strikes twelve, milk will 
flow from this spout for all the poor people who 
will come after it. By order of King Kynde- 
hart.” 

Just as the early dawn was lighting the 
beautiful hills of Mabiseau, one young beggar, 
bolder than the rest, came within sight of the 
palace. He saw no soldiers waiting to kill him 
and his companions, so he kept on approaching 
the palace walls, growing bolder with every 
step. At last he stood near enough to the 
marble spout to make out the sentence above 
it. He jumped up and down and hugged him¬ 
self for joy. He read the words over and over 
until he knew them by heart, then away he 




THE MARBLE SPOUT 


55 


went to rouse his companions from their 
troubled slumbers. 

Long before the noon hour the beggars 
gathered around the marble spout in so great 
a throng that the king, who watched them from 
the palace windows, groaned as he saw them. 
Every man, woman and child carried a jug or 
pitcher, and some caried two. When the king 
saw the poor wretches going away with the 
full pitchers, he smiled with pleasure; but, alas! 
his smiles were short-lived, for, when the flow 
of milk ceased there was still a large company 
of beggars standing about, whose pitchers 
were all empty. 

Then he called for his Lord High Cham¬ 
berlain and ordered that more cows be milked. 
“But, your majesty,” was the reply, “every cow 
in the stables has been milked dry.” 




56 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


“Then,” exclaimed the king in great anger, 
“go and buy more cows, for these poor 
wretches must have milk.” 

The next day the milk flowed on as if it 
would never cease, and the king thought; 

“Surely there will be no empty pitchers 
now.” 

But, alas! when the last drop had run out 
of the marble spout, there were still many 
empty pitchers. 

Then the king’s order of the previous day 
was repeated, and again the milk flowed longer 
than before; but it was still the same old story 
—always many hapless beggars standing about 
with empty pitchers. 

As the number of cows grew larger and 
the quantity of milk greater, the crowds of 




THE MARBLE SPOUT 


57 


beggars seemed to increase also, until it 
seemed as if the whole land of Mabiseau was 
clamoring for milk before that marble spout. 

Outside the palace gates the people com¬ 
plained because there was not milk enough; 
inside they complained, because there was no 
time for anything but milking and feeding 
cows. 

One day the Lord High Chamberlain 
came to the king with a very grave face and 
said, 

“Your majesty, your milk law must be re¬ 
pealed, for there is not another cow to be 
bought in all the land of Mabiseau.” 

“Have you forgotten,” said the king, “that 
a law once made in Mabiseau stands forever? 
We must have more cows, see that the ships 
are manned and prepared for sea. I, myself 




58 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


will sail to other countries and return with so 
many cows that every inhabitant of Mabiseau 
shall have all the milk he or she wants.” 

In a few days the fleet sailed away with 
drums beating and banners flying, while the 
beggars on shore—for they had been told of 
the king’s mission—cheered themselves hoarse 
and waved their ragged hats and bonnets until 
the vessels were out of sight. 

Days dragged into weeks and weeks into 
months, but the king did not return. The milk 
still flowed from the spout, and the crowds 
wrangled and fought over it, sometimes hurting 
each other in their struggles to be first at the 
spout. 

Murmurings grew louder and louder 
through the land and the Lord High Cham¬ 
berlain was half crazed with fear and anxiety. 





A wonderful idea came to the Lord High Chamberlain 


59 






60 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


One day as he sat lost in thought over the ter¬ 
rible state of affairs, a wonderful idea came to 
him. 

“I’ll do it,” he said, jumping up and walk¬ 
ing about his room in great joy. 

As soon as it was dark, he wrapped him¬ 
self in a long cloak, put a mask on his face, 
and taking a stout stick in his hand, walked 
away toward the city. Just before midnight 
he returned, and with him was a bent old man 
carrying a small tool-box. All that night and 
the next day until dark the little old man was 
hidden in the palace. No one saw him, or 
knew that he was there, except the Lord High 
Chamberlain. 

The next day the palace clock began to 
strike as usual in its slow measured way, and the 
people counted the strokes aloud as had become 




THE MARBLE SPOUT 


61 


their custom. When the twelfth peal sounded, 
the crowd surged forward, for that was the sig¬ 
nal for the milk to flow. But lo! there came an¬ 
other clang of the bell, and the clock had struck 
thirteen, and there was no milk pouring its white 
sweetness out of the marble spout. Then a great 
cry arose from the people, but the Lord High 
Chamberlain quickly mounted the top of the 
wall and spoke to them thus; 

“You know, my friends, the people of 
Mabiseau always obey the laws even to the 
last letter. As soon as the clock strikes twelve 
again, you will find the milk coming out of 
the spout as usual; but meanwhile, go to your 
homes and wait quietly until it is time for the 
clock to strike again.” 

So the people obeyed and went home 
quietly, but returned the following day and 




62 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


waited before the marble spout. This they did 
many days, but the clock still continued strik¬ 
ing thirteen, and the king was still unheard 
from. 

Then the Lord High Chamberlain, watch¬ 
ing always from his palace windows, saw with 
joy that the crowd of beggars daily grew smaller. 

He sent trusty messengers to inquire into 
the matter and learned that the beggars had 
found work and therefore no longer needed 
the gift of milk. So the cows were taken from 
the stables and driven away, a few at a time, 
into the country and given to poor men with 
families. At last there were only two blind, old 
beggars left at the gate, and these the Lord 
High Chamberlain sent into the country to be 
cared for as long as they lived. 




THE MARBLE SPOUT 


63 


But one day, amid the sweet peace and con¬ 
tentment which now reigned throughout Mabi- 
seau, a messenger came running to the Lord 
High Chamberlain, saying, 

“The king and his fleet are sailing into the 
bay.” The poor man’s heart was full of mis¬ 
givings. “Now,” he said, “all my work will be 
undone.” Nevertheless, he put on his robes 
of state and, accompanied by the whole court, 
went forth in great pomp to meet the king. 

When they approached the shore, the Lord 
High Chamberlain nearly wept with fear for 
he expected the air would be rent with the bel¬ 
lowing of cows and the bleating of calves. 
But he heard instead the beating of drums and 
the blaring of trumpets. When at last the 
king’s ship touched the pier and he walked 
down the plank the Lord High Chamberlain 




64 


HOMESPUN STORIES 



In one hand an ax, in the other a saw and hammer 

saw that he carried in one hand an ax, in the 
other a saw and a hammer. 

When the king had embraced the Lord 
High Chamberlain he turned to his court and 
said, 

“I have learned much since I left you. I 
have been to a country where no man is given 




THE MARBLE SPOUT 


65 


anything unless he is sick, or aged, where 
every man must work for what he has. My 
ships are loaded with saws, hammers and axes, 
which I will sell to my people, and I have 
brought men with me who will teach them how 
to use them.” 

When the Lord High Chamberlain and 
the king were alone in the king’s private rooms, 
the Lord High Chamberlain told him the story 
of the clock. 

The king looked at him with a twinkle 
in his eye. 

“Ah,” he4aid, “thine is a wise head! and 
thirteen is a lucky number for the people of 
this land.” 

But did they leave the marble spout there 
always? and did the clock go on striking thir¬ 
teen forever? you ask. Well, “maybe so.” 





The Giant knocked over houses 


THE GOLDEN LOCKS 

GREAT many years ago, long before 
even your great-grandparents were born, 
there was situated in one of the most beautiful 
corners of the earth a country called Heartland. 

It had once been governed by a wise and 
good fairy king, and he had placed a strange 
enchantment upon the people. 


66 









Golden hair that was wonderful in its brightness 


67 
























68 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


By this enchantment every person cast a 
shadow, not according to his, or her, size, but 
in proportion to the amount of selfishness in 
his or her heart. 

So, if anyone could have been found whose 
heart was absolutely unselfish, that person 
would have been entirely without a shadow. 

This, therefore, was the great aim of 
everyone in Heartland—to become so full of 
love for others that they would be known by 
all the world as “the person without a shadow.” 

But, as you will see, this very aspiration 
savored of selfishness and so stood in the way 
of its own accomplishment. 

Thus, no one ever quite reached the de¬ 
sired point, for the people of Heartland were 
just like the people of today, who find it im- 




THE GOLDEN LOCKS 


69 


possible to say of any action, “There is no self 
here.” 

There was one maiden, however, whose 
shadow was merely a rim of white light, for 
she had come very near to absolute self-forget¬ 
fulness. 

This maiden, whose name was Stella, was 
very beautiful, and she was also crowned by 
golden hair that was wonderful in its bright¬ 
ness and abundance. 

When she let it fall about her in its shin¬ 
ing waves, it made the darkness radiant, for the 
light from it was like the light of a thousand 
blazing lamps. 

Stella was proud of her hair, far too proud, 
she well knew, and she tried with all her might 
to forget its beauty, but she could not. 

Sometimes, when she combed it, she would 




70 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


sit for hours, gazing at its wondrous shining, 
thus forgetting the other and more important 
duties. 

Then, a chance glance over her shoulder 
would show her that her shadow had grown 
larger and darker, and she would quickly put 
up her hair, while sorrow would take the place 
of pride in her heart. 

In another corner of the earth, far away 
from Heartland, lived a big, bad, black ogre. 

He had long been the terror of his own 
land, for I cannot begin to tell you of all the 
wicked deeds he had done. 

But one day he felt a sudden contempt 
for his native country, and decided that he 
would journey abroad. 

“I will travel and conquer the whole 
world, for wherever I go men flee from before 
me,” he said to himself. 




THE GOLDEN LOCKS 


71 


And he spoke the truth. 

So he journeyed far and wide, spreading 
death and desolation in his path. 

One day he came to the borders of Heart¬ 
land. 

He knew nothing of the strange law that 
governed this country, so he went on, full of 
confidence in himself, and happily crossed the 
boundary line. 

But alas! as he was very big, and also 
cared for no one in all the world but himself, 
darkness immediately reigned for miles around. 

So black was this sudden shadow that even 
the ogre could not see where he went. 

But he kept on in his blind gropings, 
often knocking against houses and hurting 
himself, as well as other people. 




72 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


Sometimes, indeed, when the houses were 
small, he would upset them entirely. 

Little he cared for the hurts of others, 
however, as day after day went on, and by 
reason of the continued darkness, he met with 
many unpleasant accidents, he began to grow 
angry. 

Then the howls of rage that he set up 
shook the very hills that were miles away. 

Of course the poor people of Heartland 
were full of fear at the presence of this terrible 
creature, but there was no way to capture him , 
on account of the darkness that surrounded 
him. Thus, you see, his very wickedness pro¬ 
tected him. 

But one day the ruler of Heartland felt a 
new and bright idea tingling through his brain. 




THE GOLDEN LOCKS 


73 


“We will send for Stella,” he said to 
himself. 

So a carriage was sent to Stella’s house and 
she was asked to visit the ruler in his palace. 

As soon as she came into his presence he 
said to her, 

“I want to send a band of strong men to 
capture the wicked ogre. I might also send 
torch bearers, but you know very well that 
their flames are mere flickers when compared 
with the flames from your golden locks. If 
you will walk near the head of the column, 
with your bright hair hanging like a robe 
about you, all will be as light as day and they 
will have no trouble in finding the ogre, and 
having found him they will soon destroy him, 
for I will send brave and strong men.” 




74 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


When the ruler paused, Stella was silent 
and stood before him with downcast eyes. 

Seeing her hesitation he hastened to say; 

“You need have no fear, no harm will 
come to you.” 

Then Stella looked up and a brave look 
passed over her face. 

“It is not that,” she said, “I know I shall 
be safe; but it is enough, I will go with your 
men.” 

Then everything was carefully prepared 
and Stella, at the head of the column, with Her 
glorious hair falling about her like a garment of 
sunshine, walked serenely forward, while in the 
distance they heard the howls of the ogre. 

Nearer and nearer they came to him, 
while he, seeing the approach of the wonderful 
light, thought the day was breaking at last, 




THE GOLDEN LOCKS 


75 


and he stood still, waiting for its coming, that 
he might once more walk in peace and safety. 

But the light grew brighter so rapidly 
that, when Stella and the men came nearer, his 
long shrouded eyes were blinded by the sudden 
blaze of glory. 

He heard, however, the tramp of many 
feet, and so, suspecting that an army had come 
to capture him or kill him, he was filled with 
a mad rage. 

He knew that he must protect himself, but 
as he could see but dimly, he threw out his 
mighty arms toward the spot whence the light 
seemed to radiate. 

Instantly a dozen men sprang forward 
with their axes. 

But they were not quick enough, for his 
huge hand had caught Stella’s golden hair, and 




76 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


with one powerful wrench, as if his hand had 
been a mighty pair of sharp scissors, the flow¬ 
ing locks were severed. 

Like a flash the men sprang at the 
wretched ogre, and in a few moments he was 
beyond harming anyone ever again. 

Then these brave men began to look 
around for Stella. 

They found her sitting unharmed beneath 
a tree, her beautiful face radiant with smiles. 

“It is gone,” she said, putting her hand to 
her head, where the short hair was like a halo, 
“and I am glad, I loved it too well. I was very 
near refusing to come with you, because I 
feared my golden locks would be rumpled or 
soiled, but it is gone and my country is saved 
from the wicked ogre.” 




THE GOLDEN LOCKS 


77 


Then she arose, and lo! those who stood 
near her saw that her slight form cast not even 
the faintest shadow. 

But she, thinking only of her country and 
its glad deliverance, knew not that she had 
reached the height of honor in Heartland, but 
walked away, unattended, to her humble home. 

The men buried the ogre at once, and each 
one of them took a lock of the golden hair 
that lay strewn over the ground, and bore it 
ever about him as a talisman. 

But the maiden never either asked or heard 
what became of it. 

It is said that this ogre was the last of his 
race, and so we may thank Stella of the “golden 
locks” that we need no longer fear these strange 
and terrible beings. 





THE SILENCER 

J OHNNIE READ was lonesome. His 
mother had gone to market, saying to him 
as she left the house, 

“Now, be a good boy, Johnnie, and stay 
with Bridget.” 

78 


THE SILENCER 


79 


But how could he stay with her when she 
said, “Please go away, you talk so much that 
you stop my work.” 

“It’s not right for you to always say that, 
Bridget,” corrected Johnnie, in his most dig¬ 
nified manner, “in the first place I couldn’t do 
it, and in the second place there are your two 
arms kneading bread as hard as ever they can.” 

“Well, go away and talk to someone else,” 
said Bridget impatiently. 

“That’s just what I’ll do,” said Johnnie to 
himself, as he went sulkily out of doors, “I’ll 
go off and hunt up some one to talk to.” 

He stood a moment on the sidewalk look¬ 
ing up and down the street. “I’ll go to the 
park,” he said at last, “there are always lots of 
men sitting on the benches, and they look really 
lonesome sometimes. I expect most any of them 




80 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


will be glad to have me talk to them.” 

After this very wise decision he set out for 
the park. It was quite near, but as he was very 
anxious to find someone to talk to, he ran along 
as fast as he could. In less than three minutes, 
he had turned the corner, crossed the street and 
was walking under the beautiful trees of the 
park, looking around for the men who were 
usually lolling on the benches. But it was quite 
early in the morning and not a person was to 
be seen. 

So Johnnie walked on and on. It was 
very cool and pleasant there and the birds sang 
so delightfully, that he almost forgot why he 
had run away. By and by he came to a beauti¬ 
ful grotto built around a drinking fountain. 
Then all at once he was very thirsty, but the 
fountain was beyond his reach. 




THE SILENCER 


81 


“I’ll rest on this rustic seat opposite,” he 
thought, “and wait until someone bigger than 
I am comes along. Then I’ll ask him to help 
me get a drink.” 

The rustic chair was very comfortable, and 
Johnnie had walked a long distance, but sud¬ 
denly he forgot all about his thirst, for right in 
front of him he saw a little red door in the 
grotto, and on it was a sign in big black letters, 
which said, 

“TALKING BY THE YARD. OR¬ 
DERS FILLED ON SHORT NOTICE.” 

“Oho!” said Johnnie, jumping quickly out 
of the chair. “That’s the place for me, and, of 
course, they’ll pay anyone to do talking for 
them. How jolly! my, but I’m glad I hap¬ 
pened around here!” 

He ran across the graveled driveway and 




82 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


knocked boldly on the little red door. In a 
minute it flew open, and there stood a short, 
fat old man with a funny face. 

“Well,” he said quickly, “how many yards 
do you want to buy, and what must they be 
about?” 

“I don’t want to buy,” said Johnnie, 
quickly, “but I like to talk, and I thought if 
you had many orders I could help you fill 
them.” 

“So!” said the old man, looking a little 
funnier than before, “come in.” 

Johnnie went into a dark little room, and 
the man said, 

“Well, now what can you talk about?” 

“Oh, most anything,” said Johnnie, 
proudly. Then he suddenly remembered that 
men always fixed prices before they began to 





He knocked boldly on the little door 


83 
























































































































































































































































































84 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


work, so he said in a very grave and business¬ 
like manner, 

“What do you pay a yard for talk?” 

At this the little fat man burst into a merry 
fit of laughter, and Johnnie stood staring at 
him wondering what there was so funny in that 
simple question. At last the old man stopped 
his laughing. 

“Well, my little fellow,” he said, trying 
hard to maintain a serious look, though his 
face was still puckered in many wrinkles of 
fun, “we pay one cent for a hundred yards.” 

“Oh,” said Johnnie, looking thoughtful, 
“that isn’t much.” 

“Of course not,” was the answer, “haven’t 
you ever heard that talk is cheap?” 

Johnnie admitted quite humbly that he had 
heard something of that kind. 




THE SILENCER 


85 


“Well, do you suppose you can get rich at 
that price, one cent a hundred yards?” 

“I don’t know, but I’ll try,” was Johnnie’s 
brave reply. “I like to talk better than anything 
else, and I can do a lot of it in a minute.” 

“All right,” said the man, “but wait until 
I fix the lingnicator,” and he placed a queer 
looking machine very close to Johnnie’s face. 

“What’s that?” said the little boy, in a 
scared voice, although he couldn’t have told 
which frightened him most, the long formid¬ 
able name of the machine, or the machine itself, 
for it was a queer-looking thing. It had- a big, 
black funnel on top of it, and the man by turn¬ 
ing some screws, lowered this funnel, until it 
was just on a level with Johnnie’s mouth. 

“Now,” he said, “the sound waves from 
your voice will run down this funnel and set in 




86 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


motion a little wheel, which sets in motion a 
larger wheel. Around the large wheel is a 
yard of tape, when it is unwound the wheel 
takes it up and winds it on again. Each time 
the tape is wound and unwound the hands in 
front of the machine register two. When it 
counts up to a hundred, that means you have 
talked a hundred yards, and then a little bell 
will ring, so now, talk away!” 

Johnnie talked as fast as his little red 
tongue could fly, and pretty soon he heard the 
faint ting-a-ling of the bell. 

“Good,” he said to himself, “and of course 
the faster I talk, the faster the sound waves will 
come, and the faster the two wheels will turn, 
winding and unwinding the yard of tape, and 
the sooner the little bell will go ting-a-ling.” 

So he set his tongue flying, and was just 




THE SILENCER 


87 


thinking that the bell ought to ring again pretty 
soon, when suddenly he felt something soft 
pressed firmly against his jaws, and he couldn’t 
utter a word. He put his hands to his face and 
found a vise-like thing holding his jaws to¬ 
gether. He tried to get it off, but he couldn’t 
move it. He turned around and there stood the 
little man laughing at him. 

“Do you like it?” he asked. 

Johnnie shook his head and motioned to 
him to take it off. 

“Do you see that sign up there?” asked the 
man, pointing to the wall. 

Johnnie looked and read in big black let¬ 
ters these words, 

“SILENCERS FOR SALE, WAR¬ 
RANTED TO STICK.” 

“You see,” said the keeper of the “talk 




88 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


shop,” “I sell those things to put on people who 
talk without saying anything. Now, you have 
talked nearly two hundred yards and you 
haven’t said anything. When I buy talk, I buy 
the kind that has something in besides noise 
and a lot of words.” 

Johnnie looked as if he were going to cry 
and he put his hands on the silencer and tried 
to get it off. 

“Oh, you needn’t try that sort of thing,” 
said the little man, “don’t you see what the sign 
says, ‘Warranted to stick?’ It fastens in a 
secret way, and no one can possibly get it un¬ 
fastened, unless he knows the trick.” 

Two big tears stood in Johnnie’s eyes, and 
he motioned as fast as he could to have the 
silencer taken off, but the man frowned harder 
than ever. 




THE SILENCER 


89 


“You say you like to talk, what for? Just 
to hear the sound of your own voice? The 
silencer is to quiet that kind of people. I in¬ 
vented it myself when I had a relative living 
with me who talked from morning until night 
about nothing. So I used to clap this on his 
jaws when I couldn’t stand it any longer and 
then we’d have peace for a while. Oh, I tell 
you, the ‘silencers’ are great things. I sell more 
of them than I do of the talk, because I find that 
there are ten people who can gabble, gabble 
all day long where there is one who can keep 
silent.” 

As the little man paused Johnnie again 
made wild motions to have the silencer re¬ 
moved. 

“Well,” the man said, “before I unfasten 
the thing you must make two promises.” 




90 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


Johnnie was by this time ready to promise 
anything, so he nodded with all his might. 

“First, you must never, on any account, 
talk, unless you have something to say, do you 
promise that?” 

Johnnie nodded as hard as before. 

“Secondly, you must keep silent four times 
as much as you talk.” 

Johnnie looked bewildered. 

“That is, if you talk fifteen minutes you 
must keep silent an hour. If you talk five min- 
utse, you must be silent twenty, understand?” 

Johnnie nodded slowly. 

“Now, if you are ready to promise that, 
I’ll take the silencer off.” 

Johnnie didn’t nod; the latter promise 
seemed a pretty hard one to make. He thought 




THE SILENCER 


91 


of all the long silent minutes, and it did not 
please him; he did so like to talk. 

“Oh, well,” said the little man, turning 
away, “I see you don’t want—” 

Johnnie began to be scared; he thought 
the old man was going away, and would leave 
him with that horrible thing gripping at his 
jaws. He tried to cry out, to say that he would 
promise anything that was required, if the man 
would only let him go. 

“Hello there! is that you, Johnnie Read? 
What are you doing here at this time of day?” 

Johnnie gave a great jump, and there right 
beside him on the graveled way, was a horse 
and buggy, and in the buggy was Mr. Jones, 
who lived next door to Johnnie. 

“Been taking a nap in the shade?” 
asked Mr. Jones kindly, “Well jump into the 




92 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


buggy, I’ll give you a little ride and then take 
you home.” 

“I think I’d like a drink first, if you please, 
Mr. Jones.” 

“All right, I’ll have one too, and so will the 
pony,” said Mr. Jones, climbing out of the 
buggy. 

While Johnnie was drinking he looked 
over the rim of the cup at the grotto, but though 
he searched the stones carefully, there was no 
trace of the little red door. 

“ ’Twas just a dream,” he said to himself 
bravely, “I’m not afraid of his old silencer.” 

But all the same, it set him to thinking. 
He wondered if the little old man wasn’t right, 
and, after that day, people said, “What a nice, 
quiet boy Johnnie Read is! he doesn’t say much, 
but when he does talk he always talks sensibly.” 





THE GNOME KING 


r I ’'HE king of the gnomes was dead, and 
great indeed was the sorrow throughout 
Gnomeland, for there was no one to take his 
place. 

Gnomeland was a deep, mossy dell, where 


93 


94 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


a stream of clear, cold water trickled all day 
long. 

It was a law among the gnomes that when 
a king died another could not be crowned un¬ 
til the clover was in blossom, for every gnome 
who longed for the crown, was forced to go 
skipping over the nearest field of clover, touch¬ 
ing every blossom with his feet. As soon as 
one of the gnomes succeeded in doing this 
without making a single one of the blossoms 
bend down, that gnome was immediately car¬ 
ried away by the judges who were with him, 
and proclaimed king. 

But although the latest king had died in 
early spring-time and the clover was now in 
full bloom, a new king had not yet been 
crowned. 

The gnomes everywhere were complaining 




THE GNOME KING 


95 


because they had no king, and the prime min¬ 
ister was growing very tired of bearing all 
the burden of the government, without either 
receiving the salary or the honor belonging 
thereto. Meanwhile, time was speeding away, 
the clover daily grew riper, and soon the time 
for the trials would be over, for those dreadful 
creatures called man would come with their 
noise and destruction, and cut down the fra¬ 
grant red blossoms. 

So, the prime minister grew daily more 
and more anxious, for he was very unwilling 
to go on governing Gnomeland for another 
whole year. 

By and by the bumble-bee came flying to 
the gates of Gnomeland with this message; 

“In two days the clover is to be cut. If you 
do not choose your king before then, you will 




96 


HOMESPUN STORIES 

never have him for the Brownies have heard of 
your trouble and they are coming to take pos¬ 
session of this mossy dell and to drive you deep 
into the center of the earth, where you belong.” 

There was one gnome more swift and agile 
than the others, and he wanted very much to 
be king. But, even he, in going over the clover 
several times, had failed to win the crown. 

It was true, at his third attempt, only one 
clover blossom had bent beneath his weight, but 
even that slight movement destroyed his chance 
of being king. 

This gnome had a loving little sister who 
was greatly grieved at her brother’s failure, 
and when she heard the bumble-bee’s message 
she set her wits at work to help her brother. 

As soon as the sun was down—for gnomes 
cannot leave home until then—she set out to 






He wanted very much to be king 

97 







98 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


visit her great-great-grandfather, who lived in 
an old acorn cup by herself, and who was very, 
very wise. 

The little sister told the sad story of her 
brother’s failure and disappointment, and 
begged that something might be done to help 
him step lightly enough on the clover blossoms. 

“If you will let me live in the palace when 
your brother is made king and give me two 
drops of honey every day for my dinner I will 
help you,” said the great-great-grandmother 
gnome. 

Of course the promise was quickly given, 
and then, this wonderful secret was whispered 
to the little sister. 

“If you can catch the first tear shed by 
a mortal babe, bring it quickly and rub it on 
your brother’s feet. He then need have no fear 




THE GNOME KING 


99 


of shaking the clover blossoms, they will not 
feel his weight.” 

Away sped the little sister gnome to the 
home of mortals, listening at every door for the 
sound of a baby’s cry, but wherever she went, 
for many long hours, the babies were peace¬ 
fully sleeping. 

Her heart was heavy, and she was begin¬ 
ning to despair, but as she was about to turn 
away from a door at which she had long been 
listening she heard that eagerly-wished-for 
sound, a faint and plaintive wail. 

In a moment she had sailed through the 
key-hole and was hovering over the baby’s 
head. 

Then she heard the baby’s father say im¬ 
patiently; 

“That child is cross.” “No, no,” said the 
mother gently, “he feels bad somewhere, poor 




100 


HOMESPUN STORIES 



The little sister gnome caught it up so quickly 


little darling; see, here is a tear, the first one 
he has ever shed.” 

She took her handkerchief to wipe the tear 
away, but the little sister gnome caught it up so 
quickly on the end of the invisible spear she 
had brought with her that the mother thought 
her own hand had wiped it off. 

The next night a new king was crowned 
in Gnomeland, and the great-great-grand¬ 
mother gnome had all the honey she could eat 
until she died, and was buried in her acorn cup 
deep, deep in the center of the earth. 






























THE ACCIDENTAL CANDY 


NCE upon a time there was a beautiful 



little princess who loved to cook. Mother 
Queen and Father King thought she was very 
foolish to go pottering around at work of that 


kind. 


“Princesses don’t need to cook,” said the 
Queen. 

“But there might be a revolution some 
day,” replied the Princess, “and then I should 
no longer be a Princess, so it would be very 
nice to know how to cook. I might earn a liv¬ 
ing that way for you and Father King.” 

Then the King who had laid off his crown, 
and was dozing in his easy chair, woke up 
suddenly. 


101 


102 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


“What nonsense you are talking!” he said 
half angrily, “ there can never be a revolution 
here, my people are too loyal; besides, if there 
should such a thing happen, I have plenty of 
diamonds laid away,” and he winked his left 
eye slyly at the Queen, which was quite undig¬ 
nified, especially in a King. 

However, in spite of all their talk, the little 
Princess kept on going to the kitchen. She 
bothered the servants a good deal, of course, 
but they were afraid to be cross to her, for who 
would dare to scold a Princess, but they did 
scold about her a great deal to the royal head 
cook, who was a man. 

So, one day, when the Princess had spent 
the whole forenoon in the kitchen, and turned 
out the electric lights twice when they wanted 
them burning, and filled every pan and basin 




THE ACCIDENTAL CANDY 


103 


and dish with her messes, the royal head cook 
went to the King, and said that, unless the Prin¬ 
cess was kept out of the kitchen he should leave 
“without warning.” 

So the law was laid down and the poor 
little Princess had. to submit. She cried one 
whole day about it, and then she suddenly had 
an idea that gave her much comfort. 

“I will go into the palace library,” she said 
to herself, “and I will hunt up all the old cook¬ 
books and learn all the nice recipes, then if 
there should come a revolution, I can ,try them. 
Father’s diamonds may be stolen, but no one 
can steal away what I put into my head.” 

So this sensible little Princess now hung 
around the library just as she had hung around 
the kitchen, and the whole court was happy 
over the change, for no one wanted to lose the 




104 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


royal head cook. 

One day, as the Princess was studying a 
velvet-bound cook-book, she came upon a 
candy recipe which caught her fancy at once. 

“I can almost taste that,” she said as she 
smacked her lips. Then she could think of 
nothing else but her desire to make it. She 
dropped the book on the floor, and said to her¬ 
self, over and over, “Oh, if I only could make 
that!” 

All sorts of schemes went through her 
head. She thought of selling all her toys, her 
dogs, her ponies and her clothes and taking the 
money to buy a little kitchen all of her own. 
But who would buy her things? The people 
who would be glad to own them, hadn’t the 
money, and the people who had the money 
wouldn’t want her old things, nor the pets 





THE ACCIDENTAL CANDY 


105 


and animals that were spoiled by her indul¬ 
gence. 

She couldn’t go out and rent someone’s 
kitchen, for she was never allowed to go out¬ 
doors without the royal head-nurse; and the 
royal head-nurse always took her two assistants, 
and each of the two assistants took her two 
second assistants, and each of the two second 
assistants took her two pages, and each of the 
two pages took two lackeys and each of the two 
lackeys took two “buttons,” and each of the two 
“buttons” took two runners. So how could she 
wander around through the town with all this 
train stopping at all the houses to ask, “Have 
you a kitchen for rent?” But, at last, as a re¬ 
ward for all her thinking, a daring plan came 
into her mind. 

Early the next morning, long before a soul 




106 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


in the palace was awake, the Princess slipped 
out of her elegant bed, and, feeling around in 
the dark, found some of her clothes and got 
into them as best she could. As she had never 
dressed herself before in her life, she didn’t 
make a very neat job of it, but that didn’t 
trouble her at all. Then, still in the dark, she 
hurried down to the kitchen—she knew the way 
so well. urv-. ..... . 

When she was safely in the dear, delightful 
room, she turned on the electric lights. She 
knew more about them than she did about dress¬ 
ing herself. The first thing that caught her eye 
was a sauce-pan standing on the range, and 
into this she quickly put the stuff for her candy. 
When it was all cooked she turned it out on 
a buttered plate, and then put it in the refrig¬ 
erator to cool. In a few minutes she took it 
out and broke off a little piece to eafi 







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The princess in the library 


107 













































108 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


But, lo! it tasted of chocolate. Now the 
Princess liked chocolate very much, but she 
knew she hadn’t put any into that candy. She 
caught up the empty saucepan and looked at 
it sharply, then she understood. The chocolate 
for the royal supper the night before had been 
cooked in that saucepan, and the lazy dish¬ 
washer had neglected it and left it standing on 
the range with the dregs of the chocolate in it. 

“Why, it’s chocolate candy!” she said to 
herself, “and none of the books tell about that. 
I’ve made a—what is it? Oh I know—a dis¬ 
covery. How fine that is, a discovery by a Prin¬ 
cess! But I’ll put it back in the refrigerator 
to get a litte harder, then I’ll carry it upstairs.” 

Just as she closed the door of the refrig¬ 
erator, she heard a footfall on the back stairs. 
She knew that step, it was the royal head-cook! 




THE ACCIDENTAL CANDY 


109 


Like a flash she went out of the kitchen, but 
in spite of her quickness, as the royal head- 
cook came in at the other door he caught a 
glimpse of her flying white skirts. 

“Umph!” he said, “disobeyed the royal 
command! what kind of a mess has she been 
making now, I wonder.” 

Then he sniffed and sniffed the fragrant 
air of the room, took up the saucepan and 
sniffed at that, and finally he opened the door 
of the refrigerator, then he stopped sniffing and 
began eating. 

“Ah!” he thought, “if I could make such 
candy as that, I shouldn’t need to work any 
more, even for a king. I wonder if she’ll tell 
me how she made it. But,—ah! I know a better 
way. I’ll take it to my friend the chemist, and 
he will tell me exactly what is in it. Then, 
when I put it on the market, the Princess will 




110 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


never dare tell all she knows about it,” and he 
chuckled softly. 

It was not long before everyone was buy¬ 
ing and praising the new chocolate candy, and 
the royal head-cook was no longer a cook, but 
was rich and famous. He was so false and de¬ 
ceitful that he even allowed the king to knight 
him for the discovery of chocolate candy. 

The poor little princess knew it was her 
discovery, but she hadn’t been taught as you 
have that half the sting is taken from wrong¬ 
doing when we “own up.” So she kept still 
and let the bad cook have all the glory. That 
was the price she paid for her disobedience. 

So just how chocolate candy w^s dis¬ 
covered has never been revealed until now, and 
you must remember it is a great secret. 

How did I find out about it? 

Oh! that’s another and still greater secret, 
and one that I cannot reveal even to you. 





A deer looked from the thicket 


in 









A beautiful bird on a low limb 


ALONE IN THE FOREST 


r T''HE way through the woods was long and 
lonely, besides the young man, who was 
all alone in the world, was very hungry. 


112 


ALONE IN THE FOREST 


113 


“I have a gun on my shoulder, and some 
matches in my pocket,” was his thought, “and 
if I see a creature that is good to eat, I will 
surely shoot it and have a good meal.” 

Presently, as if in answer to this decision, 
a large and beautiful bird lit on a low limb a 
few yards ahead of him. He brought his gun 
off his shoulder and took aim at the bird, but it 
sat quite still and seemed to have no thought 
of danger. 

“You are too beautiful to shoot,” said the 
young man aloud. Then he lifted the gun to 
his shoulder again and stood staring at the bird 
until, after a few minutes, it flew away. 

“I shall surely pass out of the woods before 
long, and then I may come to a farmhouse 
where I can buy a good meal,” said the young 
man to himself, consolingly. 




114 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


He went on a little while, but the woods 
seemed to grow deeper and thicker, while his 
hunger every moment grew sharper. Presently 
a large hare sat up directly in front of him 
and seemed to ask what he was doing there in 
the woods. 

“Ah!” thought the young man, smacking 
his lips, “how good you would taste roasted,” 
and he brought his gun from his shoulder 
again. As he was about to take aim he saw the 
rabbit’s mate draw near and she was followed 
by some little ones. 

“If I shoot you,” he said aloud, “then all 
these others will be lonely.” For the second 
time he returned his gun to his shoulder and 
continued his solitary walk, wondering more 
and more, how much longer he could endure 
his hunger. 




ALONE IN THE FOREST 


115 


He tried to whistle and then to sing hoping 
thereby to forget his misery, but it was no use, 
his dry throat and lips could make no sound. 
After he had walked on thus silently for a long 
time, he suddenly saw a pair of large dark eyes 
gazing at him from a thicket. He stood still 
for the eyes seemed human, then he noticed the 
antlers above the eyes and his heart lightened. 

“It’s a fine fat deer,” he thought and he 
took down his gun. But as he took aim at the 
animal’s forehead, he noticed how sad were 
the eyes. 

“I wonder if you are as sad as I?” was his 
half spoken thought. “Perhaps you have never 
been happy, then I must let you live until you 
have tasted all the joys which a deer’s life can 
give.” 

So, for the third time, he put up his gun. 





116 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


It then occurred to him'that the day must be 
drawing near its end. 

“I am so tired that I can no longer hurry, 
and I fear night will overtake me in these deep 
woods unless I do hurry, so perhaps my best 
move will be to lie down and rest; when I 
awake. I can go on swiftly, for I am indeed 
afraid to spend the night in this wild place.” 

So as he came at that moment to a smooth, 
grassy place he lay down with his head pil¬ 
lowed on his arm, and was soon sound asleep. 

He knew not how long he slept, but sud¬ 
denly felt wide awake, for there, directly in 
front of him, was the beautiful bird that he had 
seen on the limb. 

“You spared my life,” piped the bird, “now 
make a wish.” 

“I wish,” he returned, with the thought of 




ALONE IN THE FOREST 


117 


the black forest in his mind, “for a brave and 
fearless heart.” 

“It is yours,” sang the bird, and spreading 
its wings it left him. 

In another moment the young man saw the 
hare looking at him. 

“You spared my life this afternoon,” said 
the hare, “what do you wish for most?” 

Then the young man, thinking of his 
lonely life, replied quickly, “I wish for the love 
of every one whom I love.” 

“You have it,” said the hare and he hopped 
away to the bushes. 

The young man had no time to think 
about the wonderful granting of these two 
wishes, for at that moment the big, brown deer 
was bending over him. 

“You spared my life,” it cried softly, “now 
whatever you wish shall be granted.” 






118 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


Then the young man, noticing the deer’s 
sad eyes answered at once, 

“I wish for a merry heart for you and me.” 

The deer looked at him and the young man 
was sure that he saw a joyful light in its eyes 
ere it turned and ran away. 

Then the young man sat up and saw to 
his great surprise a bush quite near, full of 
ripe fruit, and just behind him he caught the 
tinkle of a spring. 

He ate and drank his fill, and then went 
joyfully on his way, saying to himself, “I care 
not whether or not I come out of the woods, 
since I am never to fear any more, am always 
to be merry, and when I do meet some people 
I love they are sure to love me.” 

So he sang as he trudged along. How¬ 
ever, he did come out of the woods very soon, 
and for the rest of his life he was never afraid, 
or lonely, or sad. 





How / wish you would buy more dishes 

LITTLE SHINER 


TJ'AR away in the beautiful land of Autobee 
-*■ there lives a dear little girl who loves to 
wash dishes. Indeed she often says to her 
mother, 


119 





120 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


“Oh, how I wish you would buy more 
dishes, so that I could have lots and lots of 
them to wash.” 

“Tell you her name, and her street and 
number?” 

No indeed, for, if I should, I know 
exactly what would happen, everyone would 
take a trip to Autobee, and some lucky person 
would pick up this dear child and carry her 
off and then what would become of her 
mother’s dishes? I am afraid they would go 
unwashed a good many times. So instead of 
telling you her name I will tell you the pretty 
nickname given to her by her big brother, and 
of which she is very proud. It is “Little 
Shiner,” because, said he, “she makes the 
dishes shine so.” 




LITTLE SHINER 


121 


One morning when she was at work as 
usual she was astonished to hear a soft voice 
saying, 

“Take care! take care!” 

She looked all around, no one was in the 
kitchen but herself, and the doors and windows 
were all closed. 

“How queer!” she said to herself. 

Then in a minute or so, she heard the soft 
voice again saying, 

“Take care! take care!” 

“Why, it seems to come from the dish- 
pan,” she said. She looked down at the beauti¬ 
ful china pitcher which she was washing. 

“This pitcher has a bad crack in its side,” 
she said half-aloud. 

Then straightway she heard the soft voice 


again, 




122 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


“Take care! take care!” 

“O it’s you is it, telling me to take care?” 
she said to the pitcher. “Every time I wash the 
dishes mother says to be careful of the pink 
china pitcher, so you needn’t be afraid that I’m 
going to break you.” 

“Of course not,” retorted the pitcher 
scornfully. “If you were to knock me onto 
the floor this very minute and break me into a 
thousand pieces you’d say I broke myself. 
That’s the way with you humans, you never 
want to be blamed for the bad things you do, 
yet you want praise for all your good deeds. 
That sort of shirking is all right for kings and 
queens, but it will not do for everyday common 
people like you.” 

“Umph,” said Little Shiner, “what do you 
mean by talking about kings and queens? I 




LITTLE SHINER 


123 


don’t believe you ever saw either one in your 
life.” 

“Did not? Well now, let me tell you, I 
was a king myself once.” 

“Oh dear me,” said Little Shiner, “how 
very funny!” and she began to laugh heartily. 
“I don’t believe you know what you are talk¬ 
ing about.” 

“Indeed I do,” said the pitcher firmly, “for 
I tell you I was the king of the sideboard, until 
I got this ugly crack in my side.” 

Little Shiner took the pitcher very care¬ 
fully in her hand as she asked, 

“Wouldn’t they let you be king any longer 
just because you got hurt? That isn’t fair.” 

“No, but your mother said I was only a poor 
old cracked thing now, and I might as well be 




124 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


used as long as I lasted, so I haven’t been near 
the sideboard for weeks and weeks. I am stuck 
off in the pantry or the refrigerator, and even 
when I get into the dining room, the coffee- 
urn, or some such high-headed thing is put 
right between me and the sideboard.” 

“Well,” said Little Shiner sympathetically, 
“I am very sorry indeed for you, and maybe I 
can get you put back on the sideboard. Do 
you think they would let you be king again, 
if I should?” 

“Of course, they couldn’t help themselves, 
but your mother will never let me be put back 
on the sideboard as long as I have this crack, 
and it cannot be mended.” 

“How do you know she won’t? I think 
she will if I ask her. I guess you don’t know 
more about my mother than I do.” 




LITTLE SHINER 


125 


“No, no,” said the little pitcher with a side¬ 
splitting sigh, “I seem to feel the crack in my 
side widening now, and as soon as I am unable 
to hold cream I know I shall come to the rub¬ 
bish heap.” 

Little Shiner took the pitcher up, washed 
and dried it carefully, then carried it to the din¬ 
ing room and stood it on the sideboard. She 
looked at it a moment, and it seemed to her that 
the flowers on its side were nodding at her. 

When she had finished her dishes she went 
to her mother. 

“Mother,” she said, “please do not use the 
pink china pitcher any more, it is cracked so 
badly that every time I wash it, I am afraid it 
will come to pieces.” 

“What is it good for, little daughter, if we 
cannot use it?” 




126 


HOMESPUN STORIES 


“It is so beautiful, and isn’t it nice to have 
some things around that are just pretty to look 
at, even though they are not useful?” 

“Perhaps,” said the mother with a smile. 

So now the pink china pitcher stays on the 
sideboard, but, would you believe it, it has 
never spoken to little Shiner since that day. 

I call that ingratitude, don’t you? 





ciana 


^rfie cfiilda 3ook 6^ iTamoua cApusi 
J3y^>&t/r&Jloi//;free S/uiTA 

^Author of Olae Jarty3miR5, Treasure Jmiae>, 
c?i jty ^uru^JWimals,etc. 



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\irUSTRIGHT BOOKS'* 

PUBLISHERS 

ALBERJT WH/TMAH COMPANY 
CHICAGO, U.S.A. 








Ask for (UNBREAKABLE) 

ALBERT WHITMAN’S 
EASY READING JUVENILE LIBRARY 
“JUST RIGHT BOOKS” 


Profusely illustrated in colors; reinforced cloth binding; 
printed in large type on fine paper; jackets in color; 
price each, 60 c. 


Open Air Stories 
Gingerbread Boy 
Doll Land Stories 
Tale of Curly Tail 


The Tiddly Winks 
Surprise Stories 
The Party Twins 
Washington’s Boyhood 
Comical Circus Stories 
Real Out-of-Door Stories 
Fifty Funny Animal Tales 
In and Out-Door Playgames 
Child’s Garden of Verses 
The Treasure Twins 


Reading Time Stories 
Knowledge Primer Games 
Jolly Polly and Curly Tail 
Flower and Berry Babies 
Little Boy France 
Busy Fingers Drawing Primer 


Happy Manikin in Manners Town 
The Vegetable and Fruit Children 
The Dinner That Was Always There 
Six Tiddly Winks and the A to Zees 


PUBLISHED BY 

ALBERT WHITMAN & COMPANY 
CHICAGO, U. S. A. 

MANY OTHER TITLES NOW READY. 
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